


The Battle of the Flower Bed

by dracogotgame



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Competition, Fluff, Gardening, Humour, Innocent Draco, Jealousy, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Terrible Gardening Metaphors, old fic, reposted, seriously he is positively daft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 09:19:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15216041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracogotgame/pseuds/dracogotgame
Summary: Draco is stuck between two alpha males and really, all he wants to do is plant tulips.





	The Battle of the Flower Bed

Draco wouldn’t go as far as to say he enjoyed gardening. Oh alright, so perhaps there was something to be said for the sensation of soil slipping through his fingers and the warmth of the sun on his face. But there was also something to be said for grass stains and muddy clothes and dirt under his fingernails. Still, he supposed if he  _was_  going to participate in the grand rebuilding of Hogwarts, he would rather be out in the gardens than hauling rocks with Weasley and Thomas. At least out here, he wouldn't get his back twisted in knots.  
  
Yet again, he stuck his trowel into the ground and emerged with a clump of dry, packed earth. Draco wrinkled his nose and shucked it away before carefully stowing the tulip bulb into the shallow hole and packing it up again. With any luck, the flowers would be in full bloom by the time Hogwarts opened her gates again. Draco smiled slightly at the thought. After the horror of the war, it was actually nice to focus on something as mundane as planting flowers.   
  
“Looking good there, Malfoy.”  
  
Draco’s head jerked up at the sudden interruption. Longbottom greeted him with a smile and knelt beside him. Draco couldn’t help feeling just a little smug at the praise. Longbottom was the resident flower expert, after all.   
  
“They do, don’t they?” he agreed, gesturing to the flower beds.  
  
To his surprise, Longbottom chuckled. His brown eyes raked Draco’s body and his smile widened a fraction. “I wasn’t really talking about the flowers, but I suppose they look good too.” He leaned over to inspect the tulip bulbs. Draco frowned in confusion as Longbottom sidled closer, swinging an easy arm around his shoulders.   
  
“Not bad at all,” Longbottom commented approvingly. His arm tightened around Draco in a gentle squeeze. “I like a man who knows his way around a garden.”  
  
“Aren’t you supposed to be on window cleaning duty right now?” Draco asked curiously. Granger was in charge of the task and activity scheduling and she was borderline vicious about it. Draco had all but memorized the dratted shifts in order to escape her wrath. As far as he knew, Longbottom was supposed to be cleaning the windows on the third floor right now, Pansy and Blaise were in the Great Hall trying to reconstruct the house banners and Potter was due to show up and help him with gardening any minute.  
  
Longbottom waved a careless hand. “I swapped my shift with Harry,” he explained with a shrug. “I figured you could use my help in the gardens. I’m sure he won’t mind.”  
  
“Oh,” Draco murmured, absently wondering why the prospect of not seeing Potter today disappointed him a bit. Well, he would mull over it later. These tulips wouldn’t plant themselves, after all. So he nodded and handed Longbottom a trowel. “Well, why don’t you get started on that bed over there and...”  
  
“Hold on,” Longbottom cut in. “Let’s put this one to rights before we get started on anything else.”  
  
Draco bristled indignantly. Was Longbottom suggesting that he had done a less than stellar job on the flowers?   
  
“What’s wrong with them?” he demanded.  
  
Longbottom chuckled and nudged him gently. “Nothing too drastic. You just didn’t pack the soil tight enough. Here, I’ll show you.”  
  
Before Draco could argue that he had done it just fine, thank you very much, Longbottom was behind him, crowding against his back. Strong hands wrapped around Draco’s wrists and Longbottom leaned them forward. Draco blinked in surprise at the sensation of Longbottom’s broad chest pressed against his back, pushing him forward.   
  
“Very good,” Longbottom purred in his ear. “Now watch how I do it.” He positioned Draco’s hands against the flattened earth and pressed down, packing the soil in. Oh, alright then. Draco frowned, observing the motions carefully before trying on his own.  
  
“Like this?” he asked, pressing his fingers against the mud.   
  
Longbottom’s fingers were still on his wrist. They tightened just a fraction. “Just like that,” he praised, leaning into Draco again. “You’re a natural, Mal- **oi!** ”  
  
Draco squeaked in alarm as the sudden  _splat_  came out of nowhere. Longbottom squawked in indignation and released Draco, standing up abruptly. There was a steadily growing wet spot on his shirt and his hair was drenched. He glared around wildly and Draco wasn’t really sure what had just happened until...  
  
“Oh, mate. Did I get you with that Aguamenti? Merlin, I’m  _so_  sorry.”  
  
Draco whirled around and his eyes widened in surprise as he saw Potter leaning indolently against the old oak tree. How long had he been there? And what was he smiling about?  
  
“Harry,” Longbottom greeted stiffly, catching sight of his house-mate. “I didn’t see you there.”  
  
Potter grinned as he approached them. “Morning, Malfoy,” he greeted pleasantly before turning to Longbottom. “Terribly sorry about that, Nev,” he apologised once again. In Draco’s opinion, his smile was a little too sincere. “I was aiming for the window.”  
  
“The window,” Longbottom repeated dryly. “You mean the window about five hundred meters in  _that_  direction?” He gestured at the castle and Potter’s grin widened.  
  
“Apparently, I’m on window cleaning duty right now,” he went on. “Funny, because I could have  _sworn_  I had gardening today. With Malfoy.” He was still smiling but Draco could swear that his posture was rigid and a little...defensive _,_  somehow?  
  
Okay, now Draco was officially confused.   
  
Longbottom’s shoulders went back and he lifted his chin. “I asked Hermione to swap our shifts,” he said smoothly. “I thought I could help Malfoy here in the gardens. You know, show him how it’s done.”  
  
Potter’s eyes flashed. “That’s very nice of you,” he replied, “but I think I can show Malfoy how it’s done just fine.”  
  
Draco’s jaw dropped in sheer indignation. He knew how to plant flowers! He was about to tell both those tossers just that but Longbottom started off again.  
  
“You should get back to those windows, Harry,” he suggested firmly. “I can handle the flower bed for one day. I’m bloody good at it, you know.”  
  
Potter’s fist clenched and his jaw tightened. “I’m sure you are,” he bit out. “But see, I’m quite fond of this particular...flower bed. In fact, you could say I consider this flower bed as  _mine._ ”   
  
“But it isn’t,” Longbottom contested with a smirk. “As a matter of fact, I think this ‘flower bed’ is up for grabs and I’m going to have a go at it if it’s all the same to you.”  
  
“It's not all the same to me!” Potter spat, rearing in aggressively. “You can have any other 'flower bed' you want.  _This_  one is  _taken!_ ”  
  
“Maybe I want  _this_  one,” Longbottom hissed belligerently.  
  
“Go clean the bleeding windows, Neville,” Potter growled through clenched teeth. His green eyes sparked angrily, and he looked rather menacing now.  
  
Unfortunately, Longbottom wasn’t backing down either. “ _You_  clean the windows, Harry!” he snarled back. “I’m staying here and that’s final!”  
  
Draco’s could do nothing but gape at the bizarre scene unfolding before him. Was this really happening? Were the two heroes of the magical world seriously going to come to blows over a patch of dirt? It was official. Gryffindors were barking mad. Finally, when it looked like the wands were going to come out, Draco decided to step in as the voice of reason.  
  
“Why don’t  _I_  go take care of the windows?” he suggested, getting up and dusting his trousers off. “And you two can have your precious...”  
  
“You stay out of this,” Potter growled. He was still glaring daggers at Longbottom.  
  
“Yeah,” Longbottom agreed stoutly. “This is between me and Harry here.”  
  
Draco’s jaw dropped for the second time. Seriously?  Longbottom had all but bared his teeth at this point, and Potter’s fingers were twitching— a sure sign that he wanted to go for his wand. Draco, on the other hand, was _not_ a lunatic and he had had _enough._  
  
“Well, one of you better decide who’s staying,” he snapped. “Or I’m going to Granger and having you  _both_  put on window cleaning for the next three weeks!”  
  
Really, of all the things to row over? _Flowers,_ for Salazar's sake!  
  
“I’m staying,” Longbottom insisted.  
  
“No, you’re leaving!” Potter snapped. Longbottom looked ready to throw hexes first, ask questions later but Potter was relentless. He barged into Longbottom’s space, nose to nose with him now. “I saw him first, Neville,” he hissed.   
  
Wait, what?  
  
Before Draco could process that, something in the tense dynamic shifted. Longbottom’s jaw tightened but he took a slight step back. “Fine,” he muttered. “You can stay.”  
  
“Thank you,” Potter snapped back.  
  
Longbottom scowled at him. “But only because I’m not so into this ‘flower bed’ anyway and I know  _you’ve_  been obsessed with it since Third Year. So, yeah. You owe me one. Happy  _planting_ , you berk.”  
  
With that, he turned and stomped off. Potter scowled at his retreating back. “Much obliged!” he called out. Longbottom raised a hand and flipped him the bird. Potter gave him one last sneer and then he turned back to a flabbergasted Draco. His expression brightened at once.  
  
“So,” Potter said cheerfully, putting an arm around his shoulder and leading him back to the tulips. “How’ve you been?”  
  
“What...” Draco shook his head, feeling slightly dazed. “What the  _hell_  just happened?”  
  
If he didn’t know any better, he would swear that skirmish hadn’t been about flowers at all. And did Potter really say...  
  
“No idea what you’re talking about, Malfoy,” Potter replied blithely. “So, got any plans this evening?”  
  
Draco gave up and trudged back to the flower bed with Potter. He didn’t think he would  _ever_  understand Gryffindors.


End file.
